


Losing a few Hours of Sleep

by tincanicarus



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christine Everhart Friendly, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, I needed to write this because reasons, Missing Scene, Multiple Orgasms, One Night Stands, POV Female Character, Tony Stark is really good in bed, is honestly the sexiest thing ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7056865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tincanicarus/pseuds/tincanicarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fact: Tony Stark and Christine Everhart had amazing sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing a few Hours of Sleep

“Tell me, do you plan to report on the millions we’ve saved by advancing medical technology or kept from starvation with our intelli-crops? All those breakthroughs, military funding, honey.“

Christine’s lips quirk into an almost-smile, her lips forming a silent _wow_  at him. “You ever lose an hour of sleep your whole life?”

It’s almost deadpan, the way she asks it, and she can see the billionaire tilting his head just _that_  way, giving her a look and _not answering at all_.

“I’d be prepared to lose a few with you.”

That takes the reporter by surprise, and she blinks at him, once, staying silent. Tony smirks, sure of himself, which is kind of annoying but, if we’re being honest, _also_  somewhat attractive, gesticulating towards the car behind him. “Want to see my place? I’ve got a nice view from the bedroom.”

 _A nice view from the bedroom_. Christine is tempted to laugh at the sheer transparency (someone like Tony Stark obviously doesn’t need to bother with subtlety, and strangely, it works for him), but contents herself with another quirk of her lips. Her eyes stay fixed on his face, even as she turns off the recorder, slipping it into her pocket with practiced movements. “Alright.”

Tony Stark didn’t give her what she _wanted_ , exactly, but he offers a fun night instead. Christine is willing to bet that he’ll make it worth her while - and the straight-forward, cheeky way he offered was charming to her in a way that Christine will probably question later.

It has been a while since Christine has let herself be swept along by the tide. And Tony Stark, well… he makes for an enticing sort of tide.

* * *

As soon as they’re in the car, by way of silent communication between Stark and the other man, the driver lets the window come up between him and the passenger seats, and Christine cannot help but wryly consider how natural this seems, almost practiced.

“This is an interesting way to get out of an interview, Mister Stark,” she says, “do you do this often?” The blonde is noting the way Stark sprawls on his seat without interfering with her personal space, giving her room to breathe, smiling at her at the question.

He’s wearing these ridiculous shades again. _A pity_ , she catches herself thinking, surprising herself. “Nah,” he drawls, lazily, “you’re special.”

Christine snorts, and after a second of attempting to keep a straight face, Stark dissolves into chuckles as well. “I do not believe that for a second.”

“As well you shouldn’t, I’m a compulsive liar.” Tony Stark is really bad at being serious, obviously. The way his lips are quirking give him away.

“I can see that,” Christine replies wryly, repeating a sentence she’s said before, during the interview. The man obviously notices, grin widening.

“Are you okay with making out like teenagers in the backseat of my very expensive car?”

“Do you think the _expensive car_  sweetens the deal?”

“ _Very_  expensive.”

“It really doesn’t sweeten the deal anyways.”

“Not even by way of _very comfortable and spacey seats_?”

Considering him, Christine lets her lips quirk up into a smile even as she shakes her head, and, by way of replying to the initial question, draws him towards her by the lapels of his jacket. Their lips meet only briefly, Christine drawing back again before it deepens. “I think,” she says, slowly, pulling the shades off of the man’s face, which he lets her do with no sound of protest, “I’m okay with that, Mister Stark.”

This bit of permission must’ve been what Stark was waiting for, as he only pauses to correct her about his name, saying “Tony,” before he surges up to make the next kiss absolutely, unbelievably dirty.

 _Jesus_. Christine moans into the kiss, taken aback by how quickly arousal pools low in her belly even as she attempts to wrestle some control back from the other by way of lightly biting his lower lip. Stark - Tony is _very, very good_  at this.

* * *

When the car stops, Tony’s lips are on her neck, his hands on her hips, and Christine feels dizzy with _want_. It has taken all of her willpower to tell the billionaire that he’s _not_  getting to second base in a _car_ , thank you very much, but she wasn’t far off from simply changing her mind on that.

“Tony,” she tries to say, and she has _got_  to be forgiven for how it comes out just a little breathless, “we’ve arrived, I think.”

“Huh?” Tony draws away from her neck to look at her, and it is _nice_  to see how dilated his irises are, how it takes him a couple blinks to return to reality. Christine sympathizes with the feeling even as she tries not to laugh at him too obviously. _And we haven’t even done anything yet_. The thought lets pleasant anticipation shiver down her spine.

Which is when the door opens, and the driver clears his throat, unsuccessfully trying not to look at them at first. The reporter just raises her eyebrows, amused - it would not surprise her, after this experience, to hear that the ladies often end up (partially) undressed after a short drive already.

“Boss?”

“Ah. Yes, thanks, Happy.”

Tony seems to have collected himself, offering Christine a hand to get out of the car, which she accepts with an amused smile. Sheesh, she’s going soft on this man and his casual gallantry (no doubt a long tried and tested method to get women in his bed, and damn him, but it works like a spell on Christine as well), and only because he’s a good enough kisser her knees have gone a little weak.

You wouldn’t guess at that now, Christine straightening herself, then her blazer, perfectly stable on her high heels, and watching Tony send his driver home for the night without really paying attention.

“So,” the billionaire turns to her when they’re alone, giving her an appreciative once-over. Christine flicks her hair back over her shoulder, giving him a smile. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but to have that kind of attention from that kind of man is kind of addictive, and _really_ nice on the ego.

“So,” she parrots, and walks past him determinedly, towards where she spotted the elevator she guesses they’ll take to get out of the garage.

Behind her, Tony laughs, having to jog a little to catch up with her strides. “I suppose that’s a no for going a round in a Bugatti, then.”

“It is,” Christine agrees, lips quirking again. “I do not believe sport cars are roomy enough… and besides, you promised me a _bedroom view_ , after all.”

Another low chuckle from the engineer, the elevator doors open before them unprompted, and Christine meets his gaze. Whatever expression she is wearing must send the same signal Christine receives from him, since right after they step into the elevator, Tony’s lips are on her neck again, his body flush against hers. Experimentally, she rolls her hips against the hardness she feels straining against her thigh, gaining a groan from the engineer that vibrates nicely on her skin.

“I’m going to take you apart,” he says, his voice hardly more than a low murmur, and even as Christine thinks _mmm, yes,_ when she opens her mouth, that’s not what comes out.

“Not if I manage to do it to you first.”

His eyes snap to hers, startled, though he recovers quickly, grinning, moving his lips to Christine’s ears, effectively distracting her from wondering about the surprise she saw there.

“Oh, I see how it is,” he drawls, and Christine tries not to shiver visibly, clutching at his shoulders, “you want this to be a competition.”

“I don’t think _competition_ is the right word,” she murmurs back, considering to give him a hickey, ( _like teenagers_ , he said in the car, it seems apt, he makes her want to behave as if she hasn’t yet passed the threshold to twenty at all) but leaving that for later, moving to his ear in turn. “I want a _battle_.”

She can tell that he holds his breath, and she throws her head back, laughing. Yes, it is fun to take Tony Stark by surprise. Clearly people don’t do it very often.

When the elevator doors open, Christine doesn’t pause, leaving the engineer to blink after her as she leaves it with quick strides, and again Tony has to hurry after her, arriving at her side just in time for her to hand him her blazer which she shrugs out of casually.

She looks at him, holding his gaze, and Tony stands there, blazer in hand, and watches as she undoes the first couple buttons of her blouse, only to stop halfway through and move to the zipper of her trousers instead.

“You fight unfairly,” he breathes, as Christine steps out of her trousers, the hint of a smile ghosting around her lips, a woman who _knows_  what effect she’s having and enjoys it.

“Kiss me,” she orders.

He laughs, short, light, and does as she asks, neither of them heeding the clothes strewn haphazardly around them. How exactly they make it to the bedroom is a blur to Christine, Tony’s hands and mouth too distracting to take note of her whereabouts, but she attempts to keep up with him as well as she can, giving as good as she gets.

When she gets bumped against the door frame to the bedroom, on total accident if Tony’s hurried, absent apology into her sternum is any indication, Christine blinks, noticing where she is again, and _ah, king-sized bed, of course_.

She grins, quick and almost feral, lets Tony push her into the room, but before they actually reach the bed she turns them around, using his momentum against him as they fall into bed, her mouth on his, and now she’s intent on _devouring_  him, her knees on either side of his thighs, nimble fingers finding the buttons of his shirt–

But Tony only needs a little moment to catch on, and rolls them around, which Christine comments with a muffled protest against his mouth, and then they fall off of the bed, and Tony laughs like a madman, the tumble onto the carpet having punched the air out of his lungs for anything more. Christine will admit she smiles at it, even as she sits up on him, _hm, yes,_  making quick work of his shirt. Tony sits up, shedding the cloth, kissing her in a way that makes both of them gasp.

He mutters a heartfelt _fuck_  against her lips when she, her hands stroking along the engineer’s chest, grinds her pelvis smoothly down against his.”That’s the idea,” Christine replies, smirk in her voice, and Tony laughs again.

“If you keep this up I’ll come in my pants like a teenager.”

“Hm,” is the reporter’s answer, stroking down the bulge in his pants with one hand, letting Tony groan. She looks down on him, wearing the expression of someone who very much enjoys their position of power, and if that’s not a turn-on, fuck, Tony doesn’t know what is anymore. “We could avoid that if you let me ride you right here, on the floor.”

Christine can feel Tony freeze up for a millisecond below him, his eyes _very, very_  dark looking up at her, tongue darting out to wipe across his lower lips. She opens up his belt, pausing as his hands envelop her hips and Tony sneakily rubs his hand down her panties, taking her by surprise if the way she rewards him with an uninhibited moan is any indication.

“You’re soaked,” he says, voice almost a whisper, letting _soaked_  sound like the Sexiest Word Ever as he does, and Christine wants to _eat him up_  right then, as he flicks his eyes up at her with that boyish, arrogant smile on his lips, “can’t wait to have me in you anymore?”

 _God_. “Why else would anyone have sex on the floor but because you _just can’t wait anymore?_ ” Christine replies, her voice breathless, lifting her hips up to undo his zipper and push his jeans down a bit.

“Okay,” Tony says, and the way he sounds almost nonchalant has Christine pausing, looking at him almost suspiciously, that’s definitely a _I’ve got Something planned_  kind of voice right there, “you fuck me on the carpet if I can eat you out after.”

Christine feels her eyes widen, breathing out before she smiles. “Deal.”

She stands, briefly, to chuck her panties, and when she comes to all fours to kiss the man below her deeply, Tony slips her a condom which she accepts wordlessly, taking a couple breaths so she won’t rip it in her impatience before she opens it, Tony doing nothing but unhelpfully _watching_  her, letting her pull down his underpants.

He groans when his cock is freed, and moans freely when Christine rolls the condom on, despite the blonde making it quick. Christine is quirking her brows at him before she reaches out to squeeze the base of his cock.

Breathing out a swear word, Tony bites his lower lip. “Come on, Christine, I want you–”

She sinks down on him before he can finish the sentence, the slide easy and wet, and he shudders against her even as she moans, raising her hips and then coming down again.

“Yeah, give it to me,” Tony brings out between smiling lips, and his hands are pleasant weights on Christine’s hips as the sound of wetly slapping skin on skin fills the room.

He starts to meet her in the slightest upward thrusts, begs her to go _harder, faster, fuck yes,_  without an ounce of shame, Christine chasing her own pleasure as she loses all semblance of a rhythm.

She can tell when he comes, with a moan, spilling inside of her and she just needs _a little more_  - but even blissed out, Tony reacts quickly, catching her hand before she can rub her clitoris, smirking at the way she sends him a frustrated look.

“Let me,” he says, leaning up to kiss her, the movement letting his cock shift inside of her, Christine sighing into the kiss, it’s _good_ but she needs–

“Get on the bed and I’ll be between your legs until you’ve had three orgasms,” Tony whispers to her, groaning at the way Christine squeezes down on his cock in response, but the argument is compelling enough to make Christine want to follow his suggestion, _he seems to know exactly what she wants,_ getting off of him with a wet sound.

To her surprise, Tony is quick to follow, kissing her neck and leading her down on the bed, arranging her there, pulling off her shirt and bra, caressing and kissing her in places that let her pleasure simmer and _want_ , and when he finally settles between her legs he smirks up at her. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m going to slap you if you don’t–”

 _Must be payback_ , Christine manages to think before all thoughts drop off of the forefront of her mind as Tony uses the opportunity to cut her off mid-sentence, his tongue delving right into her folds, kissing her pussy, first gently, then _harder_ , and Christine is dimly aware of twisting her hands into the covers as his tongue delves inside her, his hands pushing her legs apart only a little further.

“Tony, Tony, oh my _god_ –”

He resurfaces to flick his tongue against her clit, Christine unable to help her legs shuddering, and when he starts sucking her clitoris, two fingers fucking into her, Christine _screams_.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh, yes!”

She bucks up against him, which doesn’t seem to deter Tony _at all_ , and her orgasm hits her like a crashing wave, every muscle spasming, and he _doesn’t let up_ , Christine moaning his name, _oh, my god_ , and she comes again quickly, losing count, losing pretty much all ability of coherent thought - it could have been _hours_  later that Tony comes up to nuzzle her neck, kiss her on the mouth, Christine tasting herself on his tongue.

His erection is poking her thigh, and she laughs. “Wow, that was…”

“The best oral sex of your life?” Tony suggests smugly, and Christine would roll her eyes if she didn’t know that it was very much _true_.

“Yes.”

“You’re welcome.”

She reaches out to slap his shoulder, but there’s no force behind it at all, and Tony chuckles, his lips finding their way to her earlobe. “Can I take you, Christine? Do you want to get fucked right now?”

“ _Yes._ ”

Christine has no idea where he even takes the condom from, but he rolls it on himself this time, giving Christine a bit of a show as she does, Tony Stark is a _gorgeous_  man and the pleasure starts pulsing (never really _stopped_ , he is _too good_  at this) again low in her belly.

“Insatiable,” Tony comments as he settles between her legs again, stroking a finger over her cunt to find it wet and smirking up at her as she huffs.

“Oh no, I like it.”

He crawls up her body to kiss her, and Christine arches up against him, unashamed of her desire.

“I want you to take me,” she says, holding his gaze, and Tony lines up and pushes into her in the same breath, bottoming out easily

“You’re really fucking hot,” he tells her between two pushes, and she makes a sound that’s half-laugh, half-moan.

“So are you– right _there_ , yes!”

Tony starts out slow, which Christine enjoys, still floating on a high from the orgasms she had before, but it’s when he speeds up, his skin slapping against hers, that she becomes _loud_  again, moaning, breathing his name and encouraging tidbits of _yes, yes, yes!_

The engineer, meanwhile, makes babbling _sexy_  somehow. “You’re so good, so tight, fuck yeah–”

His cock pushes against the insides of her walls _just right_  and Christine comes again, Tony holding and fucking her through it, groaning as her walls convulse around his cock, fucking into her a little harder, a little faster -

\- “ _Tony_ ,” she breathes -

\- and he comes, pausing, leaning down to kiss her again before he slides out and rolls to her side, discarding the condom with practiced moves. There’s a moment of silence between them, Christine breathing deeply, satisfied, and then Tony turns to her.

“Next round against the window?”

For a moment, she blinks at him wordlessly. “And you called me insatiable?”

Tony laughs again.


End file.
